


A cautionary tale

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anal Beads, Awkwardness, Humor, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Teen Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel was a strange boy, who knew what he wanted very early on. And what he wanted was everything. His curiosity was insatiable and his intellect could get him in far more trouble than he thought it was worth sometimes. For Castiel, his sexual exploration began at the tender age of twelve with a carrot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A cautionary tale

This is a cautionary tale. 

About Dean Winchester, an all American male. He worked with his hands, loved red meat, and always had an eye out for pretty women. Course, he also kept an eye out for hot dudes. So Dean liked both. He thought, sometimes, that the all American ideal should be updated. But he usually liked to keep things simple, keep it classic. He liked classic music, classic cars. For Dean, a sexual adventure was a threesome. Getting ‘rough’ was hickeys on his neck and scratches down his back. 

Sure, Dean had some turmoil coming to terms with things as a teenager. But as he got older he found it easier to be okay with liking what he liked and being who he was. He had a pretty sweet life. Working for his sort of uncle Bobby on cars, hanging with his brother on the weekends when the nerd wasn’t too busy with school. He didn’t have a whole lot of other attachments, a few friends, but the bachelor life suited Dean just fine. 

-

Now this tale would be incomplete without Castiel. He was still young and full of doubts but struggling valiantly to shape himself into what he wanted to be. Castiel was an awkward adolescent, pudgy and ill fitted in his body. Coming from a poor family with a lot of older siblings, his clothes were always odd and a source of something to be made fun of by his peers. But he didn’t particularly care for the opinions of others who could be so cruel and petty. He was content to make his own choices and find his own identity. 

Castiel was a strange boy, who knew what he wanted very early on. And what he wanted was everything. His curiosity was insatiable and his intellect could get him in far more trouble than he thought it was worth sometimes. For Castiel, his sexual exploration began at the tender age of twelve with a carrot. 

When he began requesting more vegetables on the grocery list, his mother thought he was health conscious and told him he’d grow out of his baby fat. 

His curiosity wasn’t necessarily limited by, well, much of anything. The naughty magazines with dog eared pages and mysterious stains that he pilfered from underneath older siblings’ beds were of a wide variety of interest. He was excited to give his first blow job to a foreign exchange student, Balthazar, in a closet during a group study project. And when Meg put him in makeup, tied him up with a pair of pantyhose then spanked him with the back of a hairbrush, well he was quite pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoyed that. 

Awkward though he may be, Castiel was not good at taking ‘no’ for an answer. If his parents were to monitor his extra curricular activities, he may have been in a lot more trouble than he was. As it were, despite his deviant proclivities, Castiel had a good head on his shoulders and managed to stay out of serious trouble. 

When he was seventeen, he had finally managed to save up enough for his very own car. The ultimate symbol of teenage freedom. It wasn’t a very good car, of course, rusted and sputtering and making all sorts of noises as though it had ascended from Hell. But as his only source of income was a part time job at the Wiener Hut, with his brother Samandriel, then it just had to do. 

Of course, not even a month into owning the junk car, it needed a new muffler. His older brother, Michael, recommended a garage that was a bit of a distance away. But he said it was worth it for the service. 

Castiel soon learned why Michael favored the garage. (He had, after all, pilfered such classic magazines as ‘Leather Daddy’, ‘Bears’, and ‘Barely Legal Twinks’ from under his brother’s bed). 

The reason had a name. Dean Winchester. 

Castiel knew from a very early age that he liked boys as well as girls. He basically liked anything that struck his fancy. And quite a few things did. Genitalia, however, were very strange. Almost alien looking, in his opinion. Even penises - and he had one of those. Sex was a weird, gross, ugly, fascinating and wonderful experience. Although he had a very active and indiscriminate sex drive, Castiel didn’t typically find people aesthetically attractive. 

But Dean Winchester. 

Dean was a grease streaked, spike haired, freckled god of a mechanic. 

Castiel was frequently and irrationally disappointed in himself for not being able to grow up faster that he might have the recourse to pursue men the likes of Dean. He amused himself with his fantasies, and a zucchini, after the muffler was repaired. When the car mysteriously began to make tick-tick noises that were nerve wracking, Castiel considered finding a different mechanic. 

In the end, he returned to Singer’s Garage. And then he kept returning, when the car needed spark plugs, brakes, oil changes. It would have most likely been more cost effective to find another hopefully superior car than to keep pouring money into repairs for the piece of shit that he owned. 

But this piece of shit was his ticket to Dean’s perfect lips laughing at something Castiel had said without meaning to be funny. And to the deep rumble of his voice. And to the sight of his arm muscles bulging under his overalls as he worked. And to the slight blush that began to blossom on his cheeks when Castiel grew comfortable enough to lean more in to his space, to touch more casually, to loosen his tongue more freely. 

Certainly, Castiel was aware that he was not particularly attractive, at least not conventionally. He still had round cheeks and pudge at his waist. His hair could never be tamed. He was more interested in books than sports and so was lacking in much muscle. But when one is young and stubborn and determined, the misplaced confidence of youth can go a long way. 

-

Dean Winchester, for all that his good looks had always garnered him no small amount of attention, always found it amusing when someone as shy and awkward as this kid with shit for a car could try to flirt with him. The guy, Cas-ti-el, had to be at least sixteen, but Dean seriously doubted he was legal. He was a strange little dude. Always wanted Dean to explain exactly what was wrong and exactly how he was going to fix it. And although Dean doubted he knew much about cars, he always looked so serious with his lips pursed and his eyes squinting at the paperwork. 

He paid in full, in cash, every single time, and the disaster that was his car kept him coming back way past the time when Dean figured that he should just look for another car. Dean could guess what the reason for that was. It probably had something to do with how Cas smiled at him, how he stuttered sometimes, how Dean caught him staring. But Dean didn’t mind so much, he took it for innocence and naivety. 

Cas was a friend, even when Dean figured out that he was seventeen, the guy was wicked smart and yeah, Dean could admit that he was impressed how independent Cas was. Not to mention, when the car had to be kept over night and Dean promised to get up early to have it done for Cas, then Cas always came in with pastries from the Polish shop a block over. Dean wasn’t sure why Cas didn’t just get a box of cheap donuts, but damn, he never though apricot was actually a good filling for pastries. 

So maybe Dean liked that Cas kept bringing his car back, and sure maybe he let his eyes roam a little bit too. Sometimes Cas came off as perfectly respectable in jeans and a button down, sometimes he came in wearing a ridiculous Wiener Hut uniform that Dean would never in a million years admit fueled some pretty raunchy fast food related fantasies, and sometimes he came in wearing things like short cut off shorts and blouses that had to be girls blouses cause they had little blue flowers all over them. 

It was kind of cute. Kid had balls, had to give him that. Besides, Dean knew plenty about hand me downs and hunting through Goodwill racks and patching up tears with the best you got. He didn’t want to be the creepy kind of pervert who let his eyes linger on a piece of jailbait like Cas, and yeah he was jailbait might as well admit it with those cute pouty lips and that round bubble butt. Honestly, despite Cas’ perceived lack of purposefulness, there were times Dean wasn’t so sure. 

Case in point. Cas knew how to make a perfect cup of coffee on the shitty decade old machine in the lobby that was there for customers. Somehow, he could coax the old angry sputtering machine into making a decent brew. And he liked to organize the cupboard below it while he waited for repairs to be done. On his knees. With his ass sticking up. Dean wasn’t sure if he was reading the situation right or not, because sometimes it amazed him what flew over Cas’ head and sometimes it amazed him how devious Cas could be. 

There was no getting around it when Cas came in – early – for a routine oil change wearing tight black leggings and a baggy pink sweater that went down to mid thigh while falling off his shoulders and scuffed combat. Dean knew exactly what Cas meant when he leaned over the counter and whispered lowly barely an inch from Dean’s face, “I’m turning eighteen in a week.”

It was friggin’ April and there was still snow on the ground and the garage was always cold because of the drafty bay doors and still, still, Dean sparked hotter than a bonfire in an instant. 

And he told Cas, see, he made sure to tell Cas “Dude I’m ten years older than you.”

Cas, well he just squinted at Dean and pouted his cute lips – and Dean noticed his stubble was getting thicker and darker on a still round sweet face – and he said “Dean the first thing I plan on doing when I turn eighteen is getting my tongue pierced, then I plan on going to the porn store and buying a twelve inch vibrating waterproof dildo. I’d like you to be the third thing I plan on doing.”

Dean didn’t have much of a response to that. 

Cas stared at him intently, blue eyes so wide, but his voice was a little smaller when he asked, “I’d like you to ask me out. If you want to?”

And dammit but Dean had no defenses to deny him. 

-

Castiel was honestly shocked with himself that he managed not only to be so forthright as to request a date from Dean but also that Dean had accepted his proposition. And oh, it was a proposition. He wondered if it would be in poor taste to practice deep throating with his friend Balthazar before his date with Dean. Although, Castiel did have terrible foresight because as he had stated the first thing he did Friday when he was out of school was get his tongue pierced which meant that not only could he not perform oral on Dean but he couldn’t even kiss either. 

Castiel would curse himself, but his tongue was swollen and he had a lisp which sounded absolutely ridiculous. Of course Dean laughed at him when they met at a diner, and of course Castiel thought him charming despite that because Castiel knew Dean laughed in good humor and not at his expense. He didn’t get a burger, which he honestly had been looking forward to as well, but the milkshakes were excellent. And if Dean wanted to show off his car afterward, and if Castiel wanted to push him into the back seat and hump him until they both creamed themselves, well, all in all it was a successful first date. 

Fully away that he was supposed to give his tongue at least three weeks to heal, Castiel gave it two and although it was still sore he considered it worth it to make Dean shout his name like that. Perhaps tongue piercings really did improve oral sex. Castiel quickly found in the back seats of cars - and eventually when Dean took him home to a small studio apartment he seemed embarrassed about but was definitely willing to pound Castiel into the floor because there was no way the futon was supporting the both of them – that he loved Dean’s cock. 

Love was certainly not an overstatement. He loved the girth he could barely wrap his fingers around, he loved the thick head that was a nice ruddy red, he loved the prominence of veins beneath the skin, he loved the warmth and the bodily smell of it, Castiel loved Dean’s cock. It was a strange thing to look at, as most penises are, but it felt so right buried deep inside of Castiel’s body. Of course, he was very fond of Dean as well, which he had come to know over the past year, but Dean’s cock was new and Castiel quite enjoyed exploring new things. 

The problem was frequently when things became less new.

-

So Cas was a bit chubby and a lot awkward and Dean had a long way to go to understanding him, but Dean could definitely appreciate his avid enthusiasm. And this included all things that piqued his interest from food to guinea pigs – going to the pet store with Cas was a trip – to sex. Dean was a little ashamed to admit, but Cas knew a whole lot more about the gay butt stuff than he did. He’d thought, at the start of all of this, that he’d be teaching a blushing shy virgin about where his prostate was. 

Nope. 

Cas brought nipple clamps to their second date.  

Admittedly, Dean wasn’t too entirely sure if Cas had a lot of experience, if he just walked through a porn store blind, if he watched a lot of porn, or what. But Cas kept showing up with his creeper trench coat which meant that he was hiding something new inside of the pockets of said coat, which he would politely request Dean use on him at some point in the immediate future. Dean felt a bit like Jasmine. 

So it was that when Cas pulled a string of connected shiny purple balls out of his trench coat not one minute after getting inside Dean’s apartment, Dean just nodded and said “Sure”.

He didn’t learn until later when Cas was on his knees with his ass in Dean’s face that what he was slicking up to stick inside him was anal beads. The wide hard plastic balls look to him like they’re too big to fit in there but after working Cas open on a few fingers his pink lube shiny hole just swallows them. It’s obscenely hot. There’s resistance when Dean nudges one against his hole, still twitching from the last, accompanied to the sound of Cas moaning with this cute little whimper, and then it’ll just pop right in and Dean is left wondering where the hell they go. 

Because this string is kind of long, in his honest opinion, but his own cock is so hard and dripping and he can’t stop pushing more of them in until he’s out and there’s just a tail of white string with a little plastic ring on the end hanging out. Cas is panting and covered in a sheen of sweat and damn if his ass doesn’t look good like that, it’s so ripe and round and Dean loves how it jiggles when he fucks Cas rough. The insides of his thighs are slick with lube for how much Dean used making sure to be careful with all the beads and when he spreads his hands across Cas’ ass to pull him back and thrust into the soft space between his thighs it glides so easy. 

Cas full on begs, breathy and raspy as he claws at the carpet and rocks his hips back against Dean. Fucking along the warm skin of his taint and nudging up against his balls, Dean squeezes the softness of Cas’ perfect ass in his hands as he loses himself rutting like that. Cas drops onto a shoulder to reach under his belly and jack himself off while keeps a good hold on his hips – he’s learned that Cas loves when he holds tight enough to bruise there – and Dean follows behind him pretty quick with a sharp intense climax that blindsides him. 

All in all, it’s a pretty damn good night so far. But then, things go so bad so fast. 

-

Castiel has done some strange things in the name of curiosity and masturbation, probably in the name of desperation as well. He has received some minor injuries, and learned quite a lot he didn’t expect to know about produce. He once almost lost a clementine inside his rectum and was worried of explaining the hospital trip to his parents but with enough lube and perseverance he managed to avoid that. 

But this. What happens with Dean and the anal beads. He has never experienced anything quite so catastrophic as this.  

He hadn’t realized he was screaming until Dean was frantically trying to shush him asking, “Babe, hey, hey Cas, shit, I’m so sorry, are you ok?”

Castiel manages to glare over his shoulder while he catches his breath. “You’re not supposed to yank them out like you’re trying to start a lawn mower, Dean!”

Dean blanches, his hands soothing over Castiel’s sides as he fidgets, “Shit, shit, god I’m so sorry, is it going to be okay?”

Groaning, Castiel shifts but everything below his navel hurts astoundingly. “Am I prolapsed?”

“Pro what now?”

Rolling his eyes, he huffs, “Does it look like my ass is falling out.”

Dean flinches a little at that, but giving another look he confirms, “Uh, yeah it actually kind of does.”

Reaching an arm down to – very tenderly – prod at the situation, Castiel ascertains that things are outside which most definitely should be inside and although he’s experienced a minor prolapse before after being a little too overconfident, this does not entirely seem to be minor. 

“I might need to go to the hospital.”

“Oh fuck, oh god, I’m so sorry –“

“Dean. Please. It’s all right, these things happen. Can you help me get dressed?”

“Yeah of course, sure.”

“Have I left any skirts over here, that would be preferable to pants right now.”

“Let me check. I’m so sorry, shit.”

“Dean, it’s all right. Mistakes happen, we’ll learn, we’ll move on. As soon as I get my ass put back inside where it belongs.”


End file.
